


Back When We Were Us

by AllTrekkedUp



Category: Martin and Lewis
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Gen, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Old Age, Old Friends, The Good Old Days
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-17
Updated: 2019-10-17
Packaged: 2020-12-22 02:21:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21067511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllTrekkedUp/pseuds/AllTrekkedUp
Summary: Jerry dreams about Dean a lot these days, he remembers him now more than ever before.





	Back When We Were Us

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger Warning! 
> 
> This will be sad one, guys. Sorry ahead of time.

It's early, but he had taken to getting up early, especially when he dreams which has been every night this week. He takes care to get up without waking the wife, but getting up takes time now that he has passed eighty- five and sometimes she wakes up. But not this morning of which he is glad, he aches all over but oh well, that's life. Walking to the bathroom he thinks about all the reporters that have asked him if he regrets taking the prat falls. His answer is always the same- no. They made people laugh even when they made him cry and he knew that was what he was put on earth for, to make people laugh.

Leaving the bathroom he sighs as he looks down the stairs, this will take a while, but he wants to get to his study so he takes the time. When he finally gets there he swings back a painting and methodically turns the nob on the wall safe to open the door and take out two of his most prized possessions. The paper sandwich bag he wrote the first bits for his and Dean's act on and one of Dean's shirts. He takes them over to his desk and sits down, it feels good to sit down, even though he hasn't been out of bed long. He smooths the paper bag and looks at his hurried writing on it.

"What a night that was," he says aloud. He doesn't care if he is alone. He's old, he's earned the right to talk to himself.

He remembers the fear he felt when he told Dean what they were going to do. Dean's face, how his eyes told Jerry that he was crazy but okay, let's do it. They had been a smash that night, and it continued for ten years. Dean's face. That smile, that look in his eyes that could make Jerry weak.

"Like a fucking girl!" he laughed thinking about it.

He thinks about the latest dream he had, the one from last night, he and Dean on the beach just laying around, not a care in the world. Jerry had never been more happy, they had just started sleeping together then and Jerry had been sure that no boy in the whole world was as happy as he was at that time.

"I can make it so much better for you, kid," Dean had said.

"Kid. I've been called that in years," Jerry said, shaking his head. "But you always did call me kid, didn't you, Paul?" he asked. His hand shifted over to the white folded shirt, he didn't know when he had taken it or how Dean didn't miss it. But maybe he did, maybe he knew who took it and he didn't care. Jerry picked it up and smelled it, touching it to his face.

"Oh, God," he muttered, closing his eyes. It still had that smell, Woodhue and Romance Jerry referred to it as. He didn't always get the shirt out because it made him feel so much. The forties were a long time ago now, but they seem like yesterday to him, yesterday when Dean was his everything. No one knew now how far his relationship with Dean went, they were all dead that could tell that secret. But he didn't care who knew anymore, he loved Dean, he wished he were here so he could tell him that one more time.

"You had a gentle way about you, you cared so much for me. Even when we were apart you cared," he said into the shirt. "Lucy and Desi were sleeping in separate beds and we were mother fucking kissing each other on national TV. They had no idea how real it was!" 

He often wished they could have grown old together, to wake up and share their aches and pains together. To wake up to Dean sitting up in bed reading a comic like he used to do and he was sure still would.

"I miss you so much, Paul!" he lamented and took a ragged breath. 

Tears fell on the paper bag.

THE END.


End file.
